


Things Grimlock Gave Us

by ultharkitty



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-29
Updated: 2011-12-29
Packaged: 2017-10-28 11:00:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/307177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ultharkitty/pseuds/ultharkitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Technobots arrive on Cybertron for the very first time, only to find that there’s a problem.</p><p>Contains: crack and fluff.</p><p>Beta'd by naboru.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things Grimlock Gave Us

The Technobots had barely set foot on Cybertron before the first alarm began to sound.

“Alert! Alert!” it blared, sending Nosecone’s hands to his audio receptors. “Alert! Decepticon Intruders!”

“Defensive positions!” Scattershot flung his back against the wall, pistol ready. “Technobots, prepare to combine!”

Nosecone fell into line, gun in hand. What if it was the Terrorcons again? He glanced around, but he couldn't see them. Surely they were too badly damaged; it must be some new kind of threat. The gestalt protocols kicked in, feeding him everything he needed to know about his team mates: locations, operational status, psychological state.

A door flung open, and something red tumbled through. Scattershot’s finger tightened on the trigger.

“No no no!” Perceptor yelled, flailing his arms. “Stand down, please! This isn’t necessary!”

“But the Decepticons!” Scattershot cried. Nosecone nodded; something must have tripped the alarm.

Perceptor tapped a code into a control panel. “It’s just a glitch,” he said. “There are no Decepticons. Not here, anyway.”

“But…” Scattershot seemed unwilling to let go of the idea. The alarm wound down, and with it Nosecone’s desire for battle. He allowed his programming to do what it needed to, sparing 30% processor capacity to observe it while the rest went on Perceptor.

“What _is_ the problem?” Afterburner snapped. To his left, Strafe fidgeted, his wings clattering where they vibrated against his legs.

“Nothing,” Perceptor said, still typing. “Nothing at all, just a glitch.”

“Can I have a look?” Lightspeed asked, craning to see over Perceptor’s shoulder. “Wow, what’s that?”

“An incongruity,” Perceptor said, sounding a little confused. “The alarm’s broken. It’s showing a Decepticon presence when there simply isn’t one. It’s a simple technological error, which I can with time correct.”

“You sure there’s no Decepticons?” Shattershot sounded a little disappointed.

“I am.” Perceptor straightened up, and Lightspeed sighed as the console went dim. “I know Rodimus is due to give you an official welcome a little later, but I would just like to say, welcome to Cybertron. Autobot-controlled Cybertron. Isn’t it wonderful? Now, if you’d like to follow me, we have some rather nice rooms that I think will be perfect for your gestalt.”

* * *

Nosecone hadn’t known what to expect.

He’d never recharged before, he'd never taken on fuel. Grimlock had provided him with everything he needed for battle before bringing him online, and the fight with the Terrorcons had not depleted him. His databanks told him about routine maintenance, acceptable energy levels, self repair; but they didn’t tell him about where he could recharge, or what objects might surround him while he did.

Private rooms, therefore, were new. And different. And just a little bit exciting.

Judging by the sounds coming from next door, one of his team mates had come to a similar conclusion.

//Isn’t this great?// Lightspeed enthused, opening a channel to all of them at once. //Hey, guys, GUYS! Tell me this is great, right? Have you sat on yours yet? Mine’s moderately pliant! And supportive! And there’s a maintenance facility with appropriate supplies!//

Nosecone laughed, a measure of Lightspeed’s joy reaching him via the gestalt programming. He pressed his fingers into the covering of his recharge station. Then he sat on the edge. //Hey Lightspeed,// he called. //Mine’s moderately pliant too! And comfortable.//

He wondered, briefly, if he was meant to recharge now. But he had none of the physiological symptoms. Before he could deduce his other options, the door to his room - _his_ room, what an interesting concept – slid open.

“Can I come in? I can come in, right.” Strafe glanced around, optics flickering. His fingers twitched, as though he wished he was still armed.

“Sure,” Nosecone said. He searched his databanks for an appropriate phrase. “Make yourself at home.”

“Thanks! I, uh, what’s this?” Strafe prodded the console by the door. “Has it got a camera in? Are they watching us? You don't think they're watching us, do you? You talked to Grimlock, didn’t you, before he… You know.”

Nosecone nodded, taking the final question as the one he should answer. “You want to come sit down?”

“No no, it’s OK,” Strafe said. He wandered around the room, inspecting the walls and the seams in the sheet metal. “Scattershot told me Grimlock said something to you, before the rest of us came online. But he wouldn’t tell me himself, said it was your thing to tell.”

“He did,” Nosecone said, meaning Grimlock. He hadn’t had the chance to talk to their creator since coming back to Cybertron, but that first conversation was so clear in his mind. “He said I was to think of him as a fellow Autobot.”

Strafe nodded. He didn't have to ask what that meant; it was hardwired into his core programming, just as it was for Nosecone. “Do you think he'll ever be...” Strafe paused, peering at the join between two walls.

Nosecone waited. He didn't want to fluster Strafe by prompting him to continue; instead he watched his team mate's wings, swaying slowly now on the hinges joining them to his legs.

Strafe continued to look at the wall. “...like he was before?” he said.

“This _is_ how he was before,” Nosecone said. “His processing power was artificially augmented.”

“I know,” Strafe said. “It’s just… I kinda wanna talk to him, but I don’t know what to say, and how are we meant to know if he understands everything we say anyway? And that really looks like a camera, I think they _are_ watching us. Why would they want to watch us. Do you think they think we’re dangerous?”

“We are dangerous,” Nosecone said. “But only to the Decepticons.”

Before Strafe could respond, another alarm began.

“Alert! Alert! Decepticon presence detected in sector gamma 576. Alert!”

“I think you said the code word,” Strafe muttered, and Nosecone couldn’t work out whether or not he was joking.

* * *

The alarm went on and on, but Nosecone didn’t mind. Afterburner, however, wasn’t so pleased, and they were all relieved when Ultra Magnus came to show them the way to the new generator.

It was a little disappointing that Grimlock wasn’t there. Not many were. Just Rodimus, Ultra Magnus and Perceptor, a few mechs from other gestalt teams, and a curious little minibot who stood beside Scattershot and kept looking up at the sky.

The minibot nodded in agreement at Rodimus’s kind welcome, and at his sentiment that the Technobots would help to make Cybertron safer. Nosecone would certainly try his best to do that, and not only because Grimlock had hardwired it into his most basic programming.

When the speech was over, and Grimlock had been located fishing in a pool with the other Dinobots, Afterburner sidled up to Nosecone.

“Where are the rest?” he snapped. “Isn’t Cybertron meant to be full of mechs? You’d think they’d come out for-” But he didn’t get a chance to finish.

“Alert! Alert! Decepticon energy signatures detected! Alert!”

“Get into position!” Scattershot yelled. Nosecone followed his feet, letting his subroutines guide him.

“Fraggit, not _again!_ ” Afterburner scowled. But he held fast to his programming, just like the rest of them.

“Alert! Alert!” the alarm wailed. “Decepticon proximity to generator! Backup required!”

“Oh camshafts!” Perceptor ran past, Ultra Magnus hot on his heels. “You can stand down!” he called. “There’s no threat! Really!”

“Sure there ain’t,” Afterburner grumbled. “All this battle mode, standby mode slag’s giving me surges. What I wouldn’t do for a Decepticon to pummel.”

“Alert! Alert!” the alarm persisted. “Decepticon attack imminent!”

“NO IT ISN’T!” Perceptor screamed from somewhere up ahead. “I recalibrated you, you stupid machine!”

“Wow,” Lightspeed said. “He’s as torqued as Afterburner.”

Scattershot lowered his weapon. “Stand down,” he said.

“Ain’t no-one torqued as me,” Afterburner snarled. “And I got good reason too.” He holstered his weapon and stalked off the way Perceptor had gone.

“Uh,” Nosecone began, but on second thought decided to keep his vocaliser on mute. Afterburner probably just needed to let off some steam.

“I’d like to go see Grimlock,” Lightspeed said. “Anyone with me?”

Nosecone glanced at Afterburner, then at the rest of his team. He had a feeling that they really ought to stick together, but this was an opportunity to see Grimlock, and he couldn’t turn it down.

* * *

“Let’s face it,” Scattershot said. “We don’t know how to do this.”

Nosecone vented, and steadied himself. There was a lot they didn’t know how to do. Fishing with the Dinobots was only one minor item from a very long list.

“You doing great!” Sludge said. “You Technobots clever!”

“But not strong like us Dinobots,” Swoop commented. A silver-plated fish wriggled in his jaws. “Us Dinobots strongest of Autobots.”

“And best,” Snarl grunted. “Him Grimlock say!”

“Me Grimlock say you shut up! Them fish all swim away when you noisy!”

Nosecone tried not to move as Grimlock’s massive tail thwomped on the water. At the edge of the pool, Strafe darted for cover, and Lightspeed laughed at the sudden soaking. Got to be still, Nosecone thought, the fish will all come out if you’re still.

It was one of the things Grimlock had taught him. Not one of the things written into his core programming, the ideas and information and philosophies given to him by the Dinobot in his enhanced state. But one of the things Grimlock had taught him that afternoon, during their first day on Cybertron: stay still and quiet, and the fish will come.

They hadn’t really got the hang of it, but then neither had the other Dinobots, and Grimlock himself wasn’t exactly one to stay quiet or still.

It didn’t ruin the enjoyment though. And that, Nosecone realised, was another thing Grimlock had taught them: you didn’t have to be good at something to have fun.

Shame Afterburner wasn’t with them.

“Alert! Alert!” Over by their accommodation, another alarm began to sound.

“What are that?” Grimlock said. “Me hope it are Decepticons. Me Grimlock SMASH Decepticons!”

“And I’ll shoot ‘em!” Scattershot said, a very happy gleam in his optics.

But the alarm died almost as soon as it had begun, and all that was left was the echo of a curse in what sounded like Perceptor’s voice. And the growing whine of a motorcycle engine as something orange hurtled in their direction.

“That fragging _alarm_!” Afterburner started yelling before he’d even transformed. “I can’t stand it. Everywhere I go, there’s bleep fraggin’ bleep, Decepticons! Decepticons! But do I see any pit-spawned Decepticons? Do I my aft!”

“Cool your thrusters,” Lightspeed said cheerfully. “Come and have a go at fishing. It’s fun!”

“Do they blow up?” Afterburner said. He crossed his arms and glared at the water. “I ain’t doin’ it if they don’t blow up.”

“Them fishes wriggle,” Slag commented. “But them not blow up. At least me think them not...”

Grimlock waded to the edge of the pool. “What are problem with alarm?” he said.

“Fragged if I know,” Afterburner huffed. “Just keeps goin’ off all the time. Don’t have enough data yet to test our hypotheses.”

Nosecone only gave 40% of available processing power to following the conversation, the rest he used to follow a long and slender mechanical fish as it wound its way through the clear water of the pool and darted behind his foot.

“It’s everywhere I go!” Afterburner wailed. “And it’s noisy! My audios are ringing. Are they meant to ring? I don’t think so! It’s ‘cause of that alarm, I can’t fragging stand it.”

Nosecone struck, bending and grabbing and pulling back in one fluid motion, like Grimlock had showed him.

“I caught one!” he cried, and the furious glare Afterburner levelled at him was only bearable because of the extremely loud and enthusiastic response of the Dinobots.

“You Nosecone make good Dinobot,” Slag said. “Me can have fish, right?”

“Sure!” Nosecone said, holding it up for Slag to take.

“OK guys,” Scattershot said. “Fun’s over for now. I’ve just received a comm. Perceptor needs us in the lab.”

* * *

Grimlock followed. Nosecone didn’t expect him to, and neither did Perceptor judging by the look on his face as three dry Technobots, two wet Technobots, and one very wet Dinobot stomped through the door.

“Um, OK, if you could stand over here for me,” Perceptor said. “Not you, Grimlock.”

“But they mine,” Grimlock said. “Me Grimlock make them. What you Perceptor do?”

“I need to recalibrate the alarms again,” Perceptor said. “And in order to do that, I need to take some more measurements.” He glared at a screen as though the readouts had mortally offended him, then ushered Grimlock over to the door. “I can’t have your readings contaminating my results.”

“Me Grimlock not contaminate,” Grimlock huffed. “You Perceptor full of it.”

Lightspeed stifled a laugh, and Strafe’s wings started clattering. Nosecone did his best to channel focused, calm thoughts through the bonding software, but with Strafe’s jitteriness, Lightspeed’s amusement, and Afterburner’s fury, it was like… Nosecone didn’t have the data to provide himself with a metaphor. It was frustrating, that’s what it was.

“You Grim-” Perceptor began, then harrumphed and started again. “Grimlock, you’re only saying that because Blades said it about Sky Lynx. Now stay where you are. And Technobots, you might want to dim your optical input for a moment.”

Nosecone complied, but even on dim the glare was brilliant. Lightspeed sighed, and even Afterburner was quiet.

“The scanners are tingly,” Strafe whispered.

Nosecone was about to agree when Grimlock said, quietly. “Me know.”

“Hush!” Perceptor snapped.

“Me Grimlock know,” he said a little louder. “Me know what-”

Perceptor tensed. “Grimlock, if you can’t be quiet I will have to ask you to leave.”

“But me Grimlock know!” Grimlock roared. “You Perceptor never listen to me Grimlock, you think me stupid. But me Grimlock _know_. It are Unicron.”

“Of course!” Scattershot said.

“What do you mean ‘of course’, and Grimlock I warned y… No, wait, yes…” Perceptor pressed another few buttons, and the tingle of the scanner worked its way again from the top of Nosecone’s helm to the undersides of his feet. “Yes!” Perceptor cried. “That’s… That’s amazing. Grimlock, you got it right.”

“Course me Grimlock got it right,” Grimlock said, his little arms waggling and his massive head raised. “Me Grimlock _always_ right.”

“Got what right?” Strafe said. “What’s right?”

“Unicronian energy signatures,” Perceptor said.

“Awww, scrap.” Afterburner sat on the floor with a heavy clang. “It’s us, ain’t it? Setting off the alarms.”

Strafe looked down at himself, his panic registering clearly across the bond, but before the others could say anything, Grimlock stepped forward and nudged him in the arm with his nose.

“It are all right,” he said. “Me Grimlock make you from bits me find in Unicron. But you Autobots. You good, not like him Unicron. You not have to worry.”

“Indeed,” Perceptor said. “Now, I’m going to need to take energy signature readings from all of you. Which means you’ll need to stand up, Afterburner. And Strafe and Lightspeed, if you could please stand still.”

Nosecone waited patiently while the scanner did its job. They had Unicronian energy signatures, just like the Decepticon high command. He wasn’t sure what he thought of that. It was, he realised, something else that Grimlock had given them, albeit unintentionally. Something very different than the combiner programming, and the sacrifice of his hyper intelligence. There would be plenty of time to reason it through, though. Plenty of time to come to terms with who he was and what he was.

Grimlock stood by the door, his tail slowly lashing. There’d be plenty of time for Grimlock too, to get to know him, to have him teach them new things. To work out whether there were any advantages to this most surprising of Grimlock’s gifts. Nosecone smiled; it was certainly something to look forward to.


End file.
